The Man in the Mirror
by Belladonna
Summary: Yeah,yeah,I know,another one of them post-Grave stories,but please be kind and read and review it anyways,I haven't even seen the episode..."It is hard to face oneself in the mirror, especially after having done something regrettable..."


_Disclaimer_: This story is a work of fan-fiction. All used characters don't belong to me and I just borrowed them. The only profit I hope to achieve with this story is the pure pleasure of the reader.

_Feedback and Distribution: My own page 'The Lonely Ones' and whoever wants it, just let me know where it goes. And I love feedback, I feed myself on it so please gimme lots of it, don't want to start a diet there yet *g*_

_Author's notes: The story takes place after 'Grave', Spike has just returned, but nobody knows about it yet. I know there have been, hm… lets just say lots of fics like this one before, but be kind on me for this one was written by someone who hasn't even seen most of Season 6 yet, including events this one refers to from episodes like 'Seeing Red' and 'Grave'. The story changes between ways of storytelling, the POV part (Spike) and the story part._

_The man in the mirror_

__

_by__ Belladonna_

The place was empty, its last inhabitant long gone and that obviously in a hurry. The possessions he once had now lay scattered all over the floor, furniture broken. The only thing that had been left intact was a huge mirror at the wall in the main room with a stylish black frame. But the newcomer didn't seem to notice anything else but this mirror for he remained undisturbed by all the chaos and destruction. The room was shrouded in silence, the only sound were the chuckles coming from the man that mingled with small sobs and whimpers from time to time.

The newcomer looked haggard, his lean frame looking even thinner than before and the layers of clothing did only add little to hiding his almost skeletal body. When he stepped into a small band of light, thrown into the place by the pale moon above his face became visible. 

The once bleached blond hair now had turned into a sandy tone with silvery tips at the ends but like the in many places torn clothing the man hadn't cared about that either. His already prominent cheekbones now were painfully sharp underneath an almost translucent skin, stretched to the fullest extent over them. But the most striking things about him were his eyes. 

They had a haunted look in them, just like his whole stature was that of a man who was running from himself, not having yet realized the futility of this attempt and continuing his run.

The blue orbs, once full of life were now sunken in, hidden deep in shadows and clouded with pain, grief and remorse. It seemed as if all life had gone out of them, leaving two empty pits of despair behind whose bottoms ended straight upon his soul.

***

_"It is said that the hardest thing to do would be to face oneself in the mirror; especially after having done something regrettable."_

***

What is it that you see every time I am standing right in front of you, when you look into my face?

I know it; I know it so well though I never saw it for myself and never will. But you have, will and do.

It is the face of a man who has hunted down and killed thousands of people, innocent humans and then bled them dry for his own enjoyment and pleasure. A man who has brought pain and grief upon families, caused horrors, you can't even begin to imagine. The face of a man who has done so many despicable things with a smile upon his face and his eyes gleaming in delight, one who had been proud of his work.

It is the face of a man who has faced not one but two of your kind, stood up against them in a fight to death and won. A man who has killed two of your predecessors for the thrill of the never ending dance to which our lives play the music for. The face of a man who has taken greatest pleasure in tasting them, feasting on them until the last drop of their life blood had been spent. Slayer's blood, you know is the most powerful vitae that is known to vampires and the sweetest; sweeter even than the blood of children and I should know since I have tasted them both.

It is the face of the man who has tried to kill you numerous times and on numerous occasions ever and ever again. It doesn't matter that it didn't work, for my failure does not diminish the fact that I had wanted you dead then, had wanted to dance upon your grave and bathe in your sweet and delicious blood.

But that all had been before, only what could you see afterwards?

You saw the face of a man who in fact still wanted you dead but now no longer could do it himself after the chip. But it was still the face of the man who'd done anything to be restored to his former demon self; the face of the man who had willingly betrayed you for it, driven you and your friends apart and had planted the seed of mistrust amongst yourselves. A man who couldn't be trusted, you could never be trusted and who wasn't worth it.

It is also the face of the man that fought beside you that you saw then, a man who stood up against his own kind right next to you and by doing that betrayed his very own nature. The man who watched your back, who helped you become a better fighter despite the bitter knowledge that this already had branded him a traitor amongst these that were like him. Yet I still did not back away from this no matter whether you think I did it because I could no longer fight you, courtesy of my chip or because you paid me for it.

You saw the face of the man who protected your sister, who fought for her life and would have given his life for her. A man who showed compassion and friendship that went beyond all limits and limitations his nature had forced upon him, a man who was able to care despite being soulless.

You saw the face of the man who loved you unconditionally, for whom you were worth more than anything else in the world, who had been the happiest man on earth when he just saw you smile. I did love you and still do, more than my life or you could ever imagine and I would have walked straight into the sun to prove it to you or to protect you. I still would though after what had happened now, that would be too easy a way out for me.

Then you saw the face of the man who was forced to face his greatest failure, my failure to you, the one person I have ever loved with my whole heart and being and yet the greater failure had still to come. But how could you ever know that my feelings would be real when I laid them open for you, laid my heart out in the open for you to see? That I could love without having a soul?

You saw the man who did his best to prove himself to you, to prove himself worthy and who desperately wished for you to return his feelings, my love for you. I had given everything for you to love me back, couldn't you see that small glimmer of hope in my eyes now?

But then, it is once again the face of the man who has betrayed you and your trust, in front of your own eyes, who had broken that fragile trust I had from you and shattered it into pieces.

And my even greater failure was still for me to face, for you to see because what is it now that you see in me? When you look at me, in my eyes? As much as I fear the answer, the knowledge of it burns me from deep inside.

It is the face of the man who has hurt you more than anyone else could have. You see the face of the man who tried to force himself upon you, in despair and a frantic last try to show you how deep my feelings for you went, to make you feel the same but against your wishes; the man who tried to rape you.

It is your own fear reflected in my eyes now, but this time you fear me and that was something I never wanted to happen. I cannot undo the things I have done before and especially to you, as much as I wished for it, but this is something that never will be granted to me. I hurt you, your trust in me and betrayed you in the worst imaginable way and this bitter knowledge alone is ripping my heart apart, eats at me and this nagging pain of guilt will not go away. I know that I don't deserve to be freed of it because of what I did.

I wonder what it is now you will see in me once you know the truth, once you find out what I have done and why I have done it. Will it change anything for you or can it change something that cannot be changed? Something that _shouldn't be changed?_

I know that answer already, but maybe I am wrong and you will be able to see me, really me this time and past the man I had been and the things I have done but instead at what I have become and who.

I know very well that I don't deserve that change of view or your forgiveness, but maybe you will one day see me different than I see myself; maybe one day you will be able to see past all I had been and done, especially to you. And maybe then, you can forgive me for it, for I cannot.

For I will always see the man who has loved you but in his blind frenzy and lost control has hurt you more than I can bear to know or to have witnessed my own hands do. I know that no excuses could ever undo what I did and no words could express what I feel because of it, knowing that it was me and not someone else to blame. A soul doesn't change anything about that, it was still _me doing all these things; me alone, no matter how much I wished to put it all on somebody else. And that cruel knowledge will be with me until my final night. You probably shouldn't forgive me at all. I deserve no better and I don't deserve your forgiveness. _

Don't forgive me, please don't forgive me.

***

_"Facing oneself, looking at the image the mirror throws back to us can become unbearable when the guilt we feel comes down crushing upon our souls .More so once we realize that the man in the mirror glancing back is someone we've come to despise."_

***

The man known as Spike still stood there, facing the mirror in front of him. He finally had fallen still from his monologue but it wasn't like he had wanted anybody to hear it. In fact he didn't know if he could bear someone listening to it at all, especially not her. 

At her image in his mind, he once again choked down another sob but still a small whimper escaped his lips. He crumbled down, his hands barely stopping the fall and he remained there on the floor. His cheeks were smeared with blood red trails his tears had left but he didn't care; it wasn't like he could see them in front of him. Another mad chuckle shook him at that thought, humourless and filled with pain and he raised himself up to his knees, wrapping his arms around them and rocking his body slightly forth and back as more harsh sobs ran through him once again, shaking the fragile body underneath their power. 

His tears continued to fall and his silent cries of the pain he felt inside faded away unheard in the night just like the crazed giggles, accompanying the grief and slowly turning into wretched sobs filled with misery when his memories of that one night came crushing down on him with its full force, mixing with those of past times; all while the man in the mirror continued to laugh mockingly from the empty surface above him.

***

_"But what of those that don't cast a reflection?"_

_~fin~_


End file.
